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It is listening with the eyes, evaluating signs against a lexicon

of memories. We were reading waves and rivers, winds and

clouds, the tracks of moose and grouse and hare, long before

we started reading words. We were also reading stories with

our ears a hundred thousand years before there were any

writers writing. The reading we do nownovels, poems, the

daily paperowes its life to that apprenticeship in paying

ecological attention.

It was not so very long ago five thousand years perhaps

that humans started capturing their languages with marks on

stones and leaves. It was a new kind of reading yet at first

there was nothing new to read, because nothing could be

written in human language that couldnt first be spoken. Then

the messages started to come in from other times and other

placesfrom the winter before last in someone elses village,

and from yesterday, for instance, in the house next door.

Then there were things to read that one could never have
heard spoken, and literature was born. There was a new kind
of listening called writing.

Before there was writing, reading was silent. Humans never

spoke the languages of rabbit tracks and clouds. Th e best we
could do was to read and translate them. But reading human
writing meant sound out the symbols, reading them aloud.
Introduction | 3

It takes some time and practice for the lips to be severed from

the eyesand there is still something wonderfully uncanny

about listening in silence, through symbols on a page, to

someone elses breathing. Like praying, it can frighten people

off. And so it should. Poetry is a psychoactive substance.

Reading deeply is a means of seeing visions.

Even when reading re -entered the silence, it was tactile.

Before the seventeenth century, few people learned to read

who did not also learn to writein both the calligraphic and

the literary senses of the word. As long as books and texts were

made by hand, readers felt their way through them. Readers

knew the moves that made the letters they were reading. The

eye that had been severed from the lips was still connected to

the hand.

Reading now takes more imagination than it used to.

The treasure house of the book is now disguised as a cheap,

disposable object. The liminal animal of the book a creature

with leaves growing out of its spine has been reduced to a

machine-made brick of paper held together temporarily with

glue. The eye is all alone, so is the tongue, so is the hand. Real

reading draws them back together and makes the reader whole. 1

Between 1974 and 1989 the architect, educator and poet John Hejduk (1929-2000) produced
a series of works he came to refer to as masques. Drawing their name from the theatrical
Masque, a dramatic form popular in the royal courts of Europe during the 16th and 17th centuries,
Hejduks Masques come to us as a collection of books, some of which were included within
larger compilations of his work and several that were published as autonomous volumes.
Broadly speaking, the works consist of images and texts of varying kinds. In many cases the
images contained are of a particular type, namely orthographic or architectural drawings
depicting structures of one sort or another, which often appear in conjunction with texts relating
to their construction and inhabitation. In this respect the Masques can be seen to resemble
architectural proposals. Things are not always as they first appear, however, and despite certain
similarities closer inspection soon reveals them to be strange bedfellows among works of this
1 Bringhurst, Robert. Reading What Is. Reading Writers Reading, Edited by Danielle Schaub, Edmonton:
University of Alberta Press, 2006, p.195.
4 | Introduction

Consisting of more than a dozen works, the Masques represent a decidedly heterogenous
constellation. They range in scale from projects comprised of a few drawings depicting modest
individual structures, with minimal if any accompanying annotations, to works that appear as
separate publications containing a myriad of images and texts describing constructions that
operate at the scale of a city. In many cases the works include orthographic drawings of various
kinds plans, sections, elevations, etc. and texts that relate to the function and fabrication of
the structures depicted: descriptions of how they are to be inhabited and by whom, material
specifications, construction procedures, etc.

As one moves beyond the earlier projects, however, the nature and variety of what they contain
expands significantly. In addition to architectural drawings, other types of images appear,
including numerous free-hand sketches, photographs, collages, and watercolours. With respect
to the texts the situation is even more pronounced, with works that begin to weave together
narrative fragments, historical footnotes, poems, literary excerpts, biographical portraits, and
numerous references to works and artists from across the domains of art. What is more, despite
their mutual designation and certain recurring features and motifs, no two Masques employ
precisely the same elements or possess an identical form. Indeed, the more deeply one delves
into the Masques the more enigmatic these works become, which seem by their very nature to
elude categorization and summary.

These works constitute the ostensible subject of the dissertation, which sets out to bring this
diverse constellation more clearly into focus. It takes the form of a comprehensive survey of
the Masques as a whole, in terms of the publications they appear within or that they comprise,
examining the range and nature of their elements, how they function and are brought together in
the various projects, and what is created as a result. Intended to be of benefit to the uninitiated
as well as to those already familiar with Masques, the present study aims to develop a deeper
understanding of and appreciation for these unusual works as a way of broadening and perhaps
enriching the architectural imagination.

What is a Masque?

For both researcher and unselected reader alike the Masques are challenging works to approach
and enter. In part this stems from the fact they are inherently difficult to classify. On the one
hand, despite their clear architectural bearing, they are not readily accommodated within the
existing categories of what constitute architectural works, whether considered in terms of
architectural proposals, theoretical projects, or more radically as Hejduk asserted, full-fledged
works of architecture in their own right. On the other hand, the Masques possess a number of
Introduction | 5

features that suggest it might be more appropriate to locate them within domains of art other
than architecture, to treat them as a kind of dramatic performance or literary artifact. As a result,
coming upon the Masques we find ourselves confronting works that do not appear to have an
obvious precedent to which we can turn for guidance; or rather, they seem to draw upon a variety
of sources, none of which alone can serve as a model for how to approach and navigate them.

Despite the difficulties created by this fact, however, the ambiguous status of the Masques as
works is not without its benefits. For one thing, it prompts us to seek from the works themselves
the terms by which we are to engage them, rather than relying on a pre-established set of ideas or
expectations about what they are or how they function. In addition, by revealing the limitations
of our familiar categories, the assumptions they rest upon are brought to the surface, assumptions
which might otherwise go unacknowledged and unexamined. Finally, this resistance to
classification helps bring into focus many of the issues the present inquiry must contend with.
These not only pertain to architecture and how works are conceived and defined within this
domain, but also involve questions that concern the work of art in general, the relation of the
various arts to one another and to language, and the nature of these relations. In light of this, an
overview of the problem of categorization as it pertains to the Masques offers a fruitful starting
point for introducing the subject and approach of the present study.

Among the types of works to which the Masques seem most closely affiliated, the most apparent
is the architectural proposal. As alluded to above, however, as one moves past certain outward
similarities this interpretation grows increasingly problematic. Architectural proposals, in the
usual sense of the term, are typically defined by the presence of orthographic drawings depicting
physical structures of one sort or another, structures intended to accommodate specific functions
or the activities of prospective real-world inhabitants what is commonly referred to as the
architectural program or simply the program of a given work.2 Whatever aesthetic value the
drawings may also possess, in and of themselves, in this formulation their primary purpose is
as a means to an end, where the end is the completed structure, usually a building. Framed in
this way, they function as a form of communication: often they are the first articulation of the
architectural idea or more precisely, the geometric conception of the built work thereafter
serving as the principal medium within and by which it is developed, transmitted, and eventually
incarnated as a built work.

2 For example, the program for a school carries with it a host of assumptions about the various
functions the work is to accommodate and support- classrooms, offices, perhaps a library,
gymnasium,a playground, etc. as well as the types of associated activities: teaching lessons, writing
reading books, play. Of course, the question of architectural program is often more nuanced and complex,
particularly when less tangible or practical factors become preeminent, such as the symbolic dimensions
of a church or monument.
6 | Introduction

Leaving aside the poetic dimensions of the texts for the moment, one feature of the Masques that
distinguishes them from architectural proposals, in the usual sense, are the casts of characters
that appear at the outset of many of the works. Like their namesake, Hejduks Masques present
us with what seem to be a series of roles or a company of players, for whom the various
structures appear more as sets rather than potentially accommodating the future actions of
actual inhabitants. Moreover, many of the texts portray scenarios around which hangs an air of
unreality. In the latter Masques each of the texts are associated with a particular character; and
although the nature of these texts range considerably, when they refer to these characters they
often read like scenes from a play rather than presenting circumstances one might encounter
in everyday life, describing improbable activities and interactions more akin to ritual and

This aspect of the Masques not only raises questions about whether they could be built, but also
whether they were ever intended to be. More accurately, given how integral the improbable
nature of the proposed inhabitants and the activities described are to the projects, the question
would seem to be whether the projects could be realized rather than simply built, which the mere
fabrication of the structures alone does not resolve. One way of reconciling this peculiar aspect
of the Masques has been to group the works among a special subset of architectural proposal
typically referred to as the theoretical or visionary project.

In the case of theoretical or visionary projects there is no expectation that what is depicted in the
drawings will actually be constructed. As a result, despite the fact this type of work is generally
considered to fall within the domain of architecture, there is some ambiguity as to its place and
status. The source of this ambiguity hinges on the relation of the drawings to what they depict,
and brings to light one of the basic assumptions about what constitutes a work of architecture,
namely that it is a tangible object in the world.

Unlike other visual representations paintings, sketches, photographs architectural drawings

aspire to a quantifiable and definitive correspondence with the physical reality they depict. In
their most comprehensive and conclusive form, a construction set of orthographic drawings
stands as a virtual double of that which it represents. Through various graphic and syntactic
conventions, a complete set of construction drawings for or of a given structure attempts to
correlate in a consistent, precise and measurable way with every part of the reality described,
such that an identical structure could be produced or reproduced from them. In the theoretical
project this connection of drawings to the realm of physical objects is broken, and
consequently a gap is opened between them and the tangible, material world where the work of
architecture is presumed to reside: the link that ostensibly makes them architectural.
Introduction | 7

As intimated by the designation masque however, there are also performative dimensions of the
works to consider, in particular the fictive character of the proposed inhabitants and the dramatic
quality of their actions. In addition, the texts also describe other kinds of spectacle: musical
recitals or balletic displays, and in some cases, collective actions resembling elaborate works of
performance art. Conceived in these ways, however, the question of how to regard the books
themselves remains. From one perspective the work so-called is the performance, the building
of the structures and the enactment of the scenarios or activities described, for which the books
are a kind of plan: the script or score that prefigures the piece. From another perspective, the
books can be regarded as autonomous works in their own right within the realm of literature,
like the play. Although the theatrical quality of the Masques aligns them most closely with this
form, they also bear resemblances to other literary genres. Particularly in the later projects, as
the number and variety of texts they contain expands, it seems equally plausible to approach each
work as kind of non-linear narrative or an extended, intricate poem.

Finally, in addition to the potential formulations outlined above, there is Hejduks conviction that
the books constitute works of architecture in and of themselves. To say the least, the statement
is provocative, for it establishes a radical identity between realities that are generally understood
as distinct: that of the representation and that of the thing represented. As it is usually conceived,
architecture refers to a physical object in the world, typically of a scale commensurable with
the human body, which common sense affirms is of a different order or class of thing than a
drawing. It is worth restating, however, it is not merely the drawings that Hejduk identifies as
architecture, but the conjunction of images and texts that make up the Masques. However one
interprets his statement, at least this much can be said: whatever makes it possible for him to
make this assertion, here the designation architecture clearly hinges on something beyond the
mere physical matter of which such works consist.

As the preceding discussion has sought to illuminate, the Masques appear to hover at the edges
of several domains of art, and while resembling a number of different types of works, no single
category seems to adequately encapsulate them. Even if they were more easily categorized,
however, the usefulness of this operation remains of a limited sort.

The Poetic Image

Setting out to answer several questions concerning the nature of poetry, in the Bow and the
Lyre3 Octavio Paz describes a similar situation to that outlined above, in his case with respect to

3 Paz, Octavio. The Bow and the Lyre; the Poem, the Poetic Revelation, Poetry and History. Translated by
Ruth L. C. Simms, Austin: University of Texas Press, 1973.
8 | Introduction

the striking diversity of the works ostensibly encompassed by the uniform designation poem.
Among other things, the book provides a number of critical insights into many of the issues
raised by the Masques, the first of which concerns the problem of approaching works of art, in
this case the poem. Paz frames this question by addressing the limitations of classification.

As he reminds us at the outset of the book, To classify is not to understand. And even less
to comprehend. Like all classifications, nomenclatures are working tools. But they are
tools that do not serve when one wants to use them for a task more subtle than mere external
arrangement.4 With respect to a number of other methods commonly employed by critics in
the study and analysis of literary works, he expresses similar reservations. "Rhetoric, stylistics,
sociology, psychology, and the other literary disciplines are indispensable if we wish to study
a work, he acknowledges, but they can tell us nothing about its ultimate nature.5 A similar
situation holds for history and biography: for all they have to offer,6 which he does not discount,
in the final estimation "they cannot tell us what a poem is."7

For Paz the most fecund approach rests upon direct engagement with individual works
themselves. As he states, Poetry is not the sum of all poems. Each poetic creation is a self-
sufficient unit. The part is the whole."8 Consequently, not only does this represent the surest
path towards deepening and enriching our understanding of the particular case, but it is also the
most reliable course for increasing our knowledge of and receptivity to the artistic domain as a
whole: The unity of poetry can only be grasped by means of the naked contact with the poem.9

As the substance of poetry, language is the essential starting point for Paz and his inquiry, and
the conception of language which he develops serves as a cornerstone of the book. Of critical
importance to the present study is the distinction he establishes between language as it functions
discursively, as a means of communication, and the way it functions in the poem, where it creates
what he calls the poetic image. The key point of contact between the work of Paz and the way
the present study approaches the Masques hinges on this conception.

4 Ibid p.5.

5 Ibid p.5-6.

6 History and biography can give us the tonality of a period or a life, sketch the limits of a work and
describe, from without, the configuration of a style; they are also capable of explaining the general sense
of a tendency and even of ascertaining the why and how of a poem. Ibid., p.6-7.
7 Ibid., p.7.
8 Ibid p.6.

9 Ibid p.4.

Introduction | 9

10 Ibid p.15.

11 Ibid p.7.
Among other things, this powerful idea sheds new light on the unusual nature of the texts that
characterize the Masques, the relation of the texts and drawings, and the special albeit ambiguous
status of architectural drawings among other kinds of visual representations namely, that they
have the features of a language, in the strict sense of the word. In addition, for Paz the poetic
image represents the unifying element linking the all artistic disciplines, which comes to serve
as the general term for what is created by every work of art within and through its own particular
medium. Consequently, this concept also provides valuable insight into two additional aspects
of the Masques raised above, namely their uncertain status as works and the significance of the
numerous references they contain to the various domains of art.

As he states in the opening chapter of the book, Paz sets out to answer three questions: Is there
a poetic utterance the poem irreducible to any other form of expression? What do poems say?
How is the poetic utterance communicated?10. As a way to introduce and frame these questions,
he begins with the problem of what distinguishes the work of poetry and by extension works
of art in general from any other product of human endeavour, which for him hinges on the
opposition of artistic creation and technique:

Technique and creation, tool and poem are different realities. The technique is
a method and its worth is in proportion to its effectiveness, that is to the extent
that it is a method susceptible to repeated application: its value lasts until a new
method is devised. The technique is repetition that improves or deteriorates; it is
heritage and change: the gun replaces the bow. The Aeneid does not replace the
Odyssey. Each poem is a unique object, created by a technique that dies at the
very moment of creation.11

As stated above, although the primary focus of The Bow and the Lyre is the subject of poetry, its
clear from the start that for Paz the ideas developed in the book are not restricted to this domain,
but are more broadly applicable to works of art in general; and from the outset, the words poet,
poem, and poetry become synonymous with artist, work of art and artistic creation.

The unrepeatable and unique nature of the poem is shared by other works:
paintings, sculptures, sonatas, dances, monuments. To all of them can be applied
the distinction between poem and utensil, style and creation... over and above the
differences that separate a painting from a hymn, a symphony from a tragedy, they
10 | Introduction

possess a creative element that causes them to revolve in the same universe. In
their own way, a painting, a sculpture, a dance are poems. And this way does not
differ much from that of the poem made of words. The diversity of the arts does
not hinder but rather emphasizes their unity.12

For Paz, the source of this unity can best be understood and approached in terms of language.
As he frames it, the unity of the arts is obscured by the fact that, unlike works of art which
begin within the realm of language, several domains of art appear to begin from a world of non-
meaning: sounds, colours, blind matter; simpler elements that, unlike words, mean nothing in
themselves. Paz argues this constitutes a misunderstanding and false distinction:

It is not by accident that critics speak of plastic and musical languages... There
are no colors or sounds in themselves, stripped of meaning: touched by the
hand of man, their nature changes and they enter the world of works. And all
works end as meaning; whatever man touches is tinged with intentionality: it is
a going toward.... Mans world is the world of meaning. It tolerates ambiguity,
contradiction, madness, or confusion, but not lack of meaning. The very silence
is populated by signs. Thus, the arrangement of buildings and their proportions
respond to a certain intention. There is no lack of meaning in fact, the opposite
is true in the vertical thrust of the Gothic, the tense balance of the Greek temple,
the roundness of the Buddhist stupa or the erotic vegetation that covers the walls
of the sanctuaries of Orissa. All is language.13

While acknowledging the profound differences that separate the various languages of the
arts, in the final estimation, for Paz these are not "so profound that they make us forget that all
are, essentially, language: expressive systems endowed with significative and communicative
force.14 What is more, the correspondence of these expressive systems with one another far
exceeds their affinity to spoken or written language: "it is easier to translate Aztec poems into
their architectural and sculptural equivalents than into the Spanish tongue. The Tantric texts
or the Kavya erotic poetry speak the same language as the sculptures of Konarak... Surrealist
painting is closer to the poetry of that movement than to Cubist painting.15 The reason for

12 Ibid p.8.

13 Ibid p.9.

14 Ibid p.10.

15 Ibid.
Introduction | 11

this filiation owes to the way works of art articulate and convey their significance and how this
differs from that of language as it usually functions, which Paz illustrates through a comparison
of poetry and prose:

The highest form of prose is discourse, in the literal sense of the word. In
discourse words aspire to be constituted as univocal meaning. This work
implies reflection and analysis. At the same time, it involves an unattainable
ideal, because the word refuses to be mere concept, bare meaning... In prose
the word tends to be identified with one of its possible meanings, at the expense
of the others: a spade is called a spade. This is an analytical operation and is
not performed without violence, since the word possesses a number of latent
meanings, it is a certain potentiality of senses and directions...16

In its discursive mode, language functions towards the articulation and presentation of concepts,
which Paz correlates with technique and utility. The poetic operation, by contrast, is the
reverse of technical manipulation; and while language does not lose its discursive capacity to
function practically as a means of communication, in the poem it is transformed into something

Words, sounds, colors, and other materials undergo a transmutation as soon

as they enter the circle of poetry. Without ceasing to be tools of meaning and
communication, they turn into something else... the stone of the statue, the
red of the painting, the word of the poem, are not purely and simply stone,
color, word: they are the incarnation of something that transcends and surpasses
them. Without losing their primary values, their original weight, they are also
like bridges to another shore, doors that open on another world of meanings
inexpressible by means of mere language. An ambivalent being, the poetic word
is completely that which it is rhythm, color, meaning and it is also something
else: image. And this second quality, that of being images, and the strange power
they have to arouse in the listener or spectator constellations of images, turns all
works of art into poems.17

For Paz this the ligature that both unites all works of art in terms of language and separates them
from mere language:

16 Ibid p.11.

17 Ibid p.12.
12 | Introduction

Nothing precludes our regarding plastic and musical works as poems, if they are
able to meet the two stated conditions: on the one hand, to return their materials
to that which they are sparkling or opaque matter and thus to deny the world
of utility; on the other hand, to be transformed into images and thus to become
a peculiar form of communication. Without ceasing to be language sense and
transmission of sense the poem is something that is beyond language. But that
thing that is beyond language can only be reached through language...18

This something that is beyond language is the poetic image, brought into being, as Paz
acknowledges, by what seems to be the paradoxical and contradictory operation at the heart of
all artistic creation, which the book goes on to analyze in detail and clarify in terms of poetry. In
the present discussion, the focus is on what the concept of the poetic image reveals when brought
to bear on architectural drawings.

Architectural Language

As outlined earlier, no single classification seems to adequately account for all of the elements
that make up the Masques. In each case the importance of certain aspects is emphasized at
the expense of others, which are obscured or treated as more or less extraneous if they are
capable of being treated at all. Approached as architectural propositions, the drawings take
priority, or rather, the projected reality of the structures they depict; and the function of the texts
is reduced to providing supplemental information about this projected reality, since within this
formulation there is no way to accommodate for their profound poetic dimensions. As theatrical
performances, the drawings and structures come to be framed in terms of supporting the dramatic
act, and it is the cast of characters and the actions described that are instead brought to the fore
despite the fact that many of the texts don't describe any actions whatsoever. As literary works,
although the peculiar heterogeneity of the texts is more easily handled, the drawings end up as
little more than illustrations.

By rendering some elements inessential, in each of these formulations the coherence of the
Masques is placed in doubt from the outset, since they do not provide the terms for developing
a synthetic understanding, where every part can be seen as contributing to and inextricable from
the overall significance of the whole. If we are to engage these works in 'good faith', however,
this cannot be the starting point. Clearly a different approach is called for.

18 Ibid
Introduction | 13

As touched upon in the preceding discussion, the critical insight provided by Paz into the various
issues raised by the Masques hinges on the question of language. Specifically, it arises from the
distinction he establishes between the way language functions discursively and what happens
in the poem: the transformation of language into 'something else', the creation of the poetic
image. The insight is this: in the language of architectural drawing we can discern a situation
analogous to that described by Paz in relation to discourse and poetry; and just as in the poem,
although architectural drawings retain their capacity to serve as a means of communication,
the work of Paz reveals a new way of approaching them, namely, in terms of creating poetic
images. Considered in this way, the various difficulties associated with architectural drawings
outlined above emerge in a different light, leading to a new understanding of their significance
as an element of the Masques, which in turn opens up a new way of approaching the Masques

To begin, just as the discursive function of written or spoken language tends to dominate
our understanding of its purpose, often obscuring and impeding our ability to recognize its
poetic vocation, architectural drawings are predominantly conceived and understood as a form
communication: a means to an end.

In the case of architectural drawings, because this 'end' is tied to action the construction of
an physical object and because there is a substantial reality against which the representation
can eventually be measured, the utilitarian dimension of this language is arguably even more
pronounced than it is in discourse, whose primary office is the presentation of concepts for
contemplation. As a result, the overriding tendency is to approach and evaluate them in terms
of utility: the meaning or significance of a set of drawings is the physical object they depict, and
their value is contingent on how precisely and comprehensively the object is represented, how
expediently they facilitate its construction and how closely the geometric reality of the built work
corresponds with the original representation.

Functioning in this way, despite the differences that distinguish them from discourse, the
logic that governs architectural language is eminently 'discursive, in the sense established by
Paz. First, as in discourse, they aspire to univocal meaning, where each part of the drawing is
intended to have specific import exclusive of all others, all of which combine to create a singular
'meaning'. In addition, the law of contradiction reigns: inconsistent or conflicting aspects of a
drawing constitute errors, errors which not only can be corrected, but must be corrected if the
overall sense of the of the representation is to be sustained. Finally, despite their connection to
the world of things, as in discourse architectural drawings articulate and present concepts, and
14 | Introduction

the significance of each part of a drawing is that of a proposition within a logical framework
governed by reason, which determines the sense of each proposition and provides the means for
evaluating its logical consistency or validity.

The effectiveness of architectural drawing as a tool of communication is invaluable and

undeniable, but as Paz shows, discursive language is also capable of creating something else:
poetic images. Approached in terms of creating poetic images, a different way of understanding
the function and significance of architectural drawings becomes possible, which among other
things helps to resolve the their status as works and their relation to built works of architecture.
In short, it provides the terms upon which to propose an alternative answer to the question: What
makes a drawing architectural?

As it is put forward here, what makes a drawing architectural is its capacity to be the bearer of
an architectural idea, in other words, to create that species of poetic image brought into being by
works of architecture: the architectural image. Functioning in this way, an architectural drawing
ceases to be a means to end: it is an end unto itself and the nature of its significance is analogous
to what is created in a built work of architecture. Practically speaking, an architectural drawing
is successful as a tool of communication when, through it, the geometric proposition it articulates
is precisely manifested in a physical form. Approached as a poetic image, this kind of operation
is no longer possible, and the terms success or failure become problematic. In contrast, if by
virtue of an architectural drawing a built work of architecture is brought into being, the relation
between the two is that of a faithful translation, of the kind that exists between a poem translated
into another language and the original: rather than 'success' the question is one of fidelity,
how closely and authentically the two poetic images, articulated in their respective languages,
correspond with one another.

The substantial presence of the medium of architecture, along with the obvious utility this
usually provides, tends to obscure the fact that what establishes a built work as architecture is
not the physical objects themselves but rather what is achieved as a result of them: the capacity
to articulate and convey architectural images. In built works the architectural image is created
through the language of forms in space, the interplay of solid and void, opacity and transparency,
light and shadow, etc. Despite the differences that separate them, the concept of the poetic image
makes it possible to approach works created in the language of drawing and that of shaping
physical space through a single set of terms: both are languages capable of creating architectural
images, and functioning in this way, are equally distinguished from 'mere language'. What is
more, it provides for a new understanding of the significance of the Masques themselves, and the
function of the diverse range of elements of which they make use. And herein we come to the
Introduction | 15

basic proposition from which the dissertation proceeds: the Masques constitute complex poetic
images, specifically they present architectural images, in the sense established above.

Through this idea of the poetic image, the various questions raised by the Masques appear in
a new light and their resolution is brought closer at hand. To begin with, it helps to clarify the
difficulties associated with the broad range of elements of which the works are composed, in
particular how to reconcile the written language of the texts and the pictorial languages of the
images (of which architectural drawings are but one) in terms of creating a unified work that
could properly be located within the domain of architecture. In addition, the references to other
artists and works from across the various domains of art take on a new significance: they are not
merely referential in the discursive sense of indication, a conceptual pointing towards; rather,
they function as evocations, whereby the import of these works the poetic images created by
them in the domains of literature, painting, music, theatre, dance, etc. are brought to bear and
woven into the Masques as elements of an architectural image. Finally, it provides a means by
which to untangle the problem of the status of the Masques as works and examine in good faith
Hejduks assertion that these books are works of architecture.

Given the relatively circumscribed focus of the inquiry and the seemingly esoteric nature of
the Masques, it might seem the implications of such an examination might be rather limited in
scope, a small niche within the expansive edifice that is the subject of architecture. As stated at
the outset, however, the aims of this study are more far-reaching than they might first appear, and
concern the possibilities offered by the Masques for expanding and enriching our understanding
and imagination of architecture in general. Consequently, although it might be more usual for
such a discussion to appear at the end the study rather than at its commencement after the works
have been examined, and the findings presented before proceeding it is worthwhile to say a few
words about where the work might reside in the context of contemporary architectural discourse.


Given the emergence and expansion of new techniques for representing, developing and
fabricating works of architecture, particularly in the digital realm, questions might be raised
about the relevance of a study that focuses on anachronistic technologies such as books and
drawings, which progress seems to have already condemned to obsolescence. Despite the fact
such research might have value as an historical document, it would seem of little consequence
to contemporary practice and the technological issues that tend to predominate the discourse
surrounding these new means of producing architecture. It is certainly true that this inquiry
endeavours to contribute to the existing scholarship surrounding Hejduks work, and in this